


Growing Older

by AverageAuthor



Series: The Absent Words [1]
Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-12
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:22:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AverageAuthor/pseuds/AverageAuthor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(High School AU)<br/>Desmond never thought he'd end up living with his cousins, much less in a ghost town. Neither did he believe he'd be a part of a series of hijinks, mostly caused by said cousins. Throw in two rival cliques, a bunch of downright uncaring teachers, and some really sneaky neutrals, and you've got the recipe for a high school disaster.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Growing Older

**Author's Note:**

> So anyway, I was bored and decided to rewrite the entire thing, since I lost the old one. Here you go, comment if you feel like it. You may call it a fanfic of a fanfic, kind of.  
> 

**Emphasis**  
Normal narration  
“Dialogue”  
 _Thoughts_ (kinda like going into first person for a second but not really; think of it as the character's comments on the situation)

* * *

Desmond hated packing.  
The empty duffel bag on his bed reminded him that he still hadn't actually started packing yet.  
  
 _I'll get to it, I swear. In ten minutes I'll log out of Facebook and start packing. This time I mean it, brain. Don't screw me over._  
  
Time passed, Desmond happily doing one random thing after the other, and at some point he glanced at the clock.  
  
 _Oh shit. Eleven pm._  
  
He jolted up from his chair, opened his closet and frantically started making a pile of clothes on the floor. He then tried to fit said pile into the bag, and failed.  
  
 _Why do these things always happen on a Sunday night? **  
**_ __  
He was supposed to have spent the weekend packing, but instead, he gave in to temptation and wasted his weekend on Facebook and World of Warcraft.  
  
Desmond's family had moved when he was in second grade, and he had been homeschooled ever since. However, his parents were about to move to a different country, and since Desmond didn't feel like being the new kid with a bunch of foreigners around him, he agreed to move in with his cousins, and attend their school for that final year before going to college.  
  
That being said, he currently was on the verge of a major freak-out session, because he was supposed to pack everything in less than three hours. If he wanted to get some sleep, that is. He let out a frustrated sigh and started folding his clothes before putting them into the bag. Apparently, being Desmond wouldn't work this time. Sure, he could get things done fast, but he wasn't really organised or anything. His room was always a mess, something he now regretted, and he was always losing things.  
  
He was whistling by the time he finished packing his clothes. He also put his second pair of sneakers, wrapped in a plastic bag, and his jackets in the bag before closing it.  
  
He grabbed one of the cardboard boxes waiting for him underneath the bed and started packing his video games.  
  
Two minutes later, he reopened the duffel bag to put towels and a couple of clean sheets in it before closing it again.  
  
He went back to packing video games and cleaning up the mess that was his desk before going to the bathroom to get his toothbrush, which he left on his desk.  
  
 _It's gonna be a long night._  


* * *

By the time he was finished packing, he could already hear birds chirping outside. He looked at the clock. _Great, it's six am and I didn't get to sleep at all. Serves me right for playing WoW all weekend._  
  
“Desmond, wake up, sweetie! You don't want to be late!”  
He practically ran down the stairs, all the while felling like he was forgetting something.  
“Mom, I've told you not to call me that, I'm seventeen years old, not five! I need to be at Altair's place by nine, can you drop me off so I don't have to take the subway?” he said as he entered the kitchen.  
  
His mother smiled sweetly before parting his hair with her fingers.  
“Of course I can, sweetheart. But I don't like the idea of you going to that school, Desmond. Its reputation is down the drain, and besides, isn't that horrible de Sable kid enrolled there with his friends? Your cousin doesn't like him, and frankly, from what he's told us, I don't like him either. I don't understand why you would want to go there instead of continue being homeschooled.”  
  
“Because I'm sick of being homeschooled, mom. It's not like I'm allerging to sunlight or something,” he answered “and besides, it's you who keeps saying I need more friends in my life,” he added, pouring orange juice in a tall glass.  
His mother sighed.  
“Yes, but what if that de Sable kid gives you trouble? Altair says-”  
“Altair's full of crap, mom. He's mad at de Sable just for the sake of being mad. He doesn't know squat.”  
  
Desmond's mom frowned, but decided to drop the subject.  
“Alright, whatever you say. You're old enough to be on your own. But promise me you'll call us sometimes, alright? Go get your stuff, we're leaving in five.”  
Desmond smiled.  
“I promise,” he answered.

* * *

To be honest, Desmond felt more than a little anxious about his first day in a real school, with, you know, **people** in the same room as him. And then there was the cliques thing... well, they weren't exactly cliques, but... it still seperated people. His arabian cousin, Altair Ibn La'Ahad, led one of the two big “cliques”, and a frenchman named Robert de Sable led the other.  
  
Those two hated each other's guts.  
  
 _Wasn't always like this though. **  
  
**_Then, there was the problem of actually **living** with his cousins. Altair wasn't the only problem he'd have as a roomie. Oh no. His other cousin, Ezio Audittorre da Firenze was also living in the same house.  
  
 _Dear lord, we're going to kill each other before the end of the week._ __  
  
He rolled down the car's window, feeling the cold wind on his skin. They were halfway through, and there was very little traffic on the highway.  
  
 _We should be there in two hours or so. I really hope everything goes well. Still, I feel like I'm leaving something important behind, but I just can't put my finger on it. Wait..._  
  
 _Shit._  
  
 _Fucking toothbrush._

* * *

The house looked nice, even though the garden did its best impression of a small jungle. There was a silver Renault in the driveway, Ezio's beaten-up mess of a car. Desmond sighed and walked out of his mother's SUV, going to the back to get his things. He opened the trunk, grabbed his bag and the box, and walked towards the door.  
He rang the doorbell, and when the door opened, he found himself face-to-face with a black-haired girl.  
  
“Who are you, and what are you doing here?”  
  
 _Oh great. Let me guess, Ms. Friendly America is still going out with him?_ _  
  
_“I'm Desmond. We met last year, Maria, don't act like you don't know me. I'll be living with Altair and Ezio from now on.”  
  
 _This girl. Oh, this girl. She's... let's just say she's lovely. As lovely as a wasp on a windy day. God damn it. She's still Altair's girlfriend. I'm screwed._ _  
  
_“Will you let me get inside, or do I have to push you out of the way?”  
  
 _You stupid bitch, nobody likes you, even though you're filthy rich. Oh hey, that rhymed._  
  
Thankfully, Altair appeared in the hallway, and intervened.  
  
“You know, my cousin's not going to slaughter me, Maria.”  
  
Desmond tried not to smile. He really did. Maria snorted.  
  
“But I didn't recognise him, Alty! Anyway, I have to go now, but I'll see you tomorrow at school,” she said in a sickenly-sweet voice, all the while glaring at Desmond. Altair just rolled his eyes.  
  
“Yeah, see you tomorrow. And don't call me that.”  
  
He kissed her on the forehead before she smiled and walked away from them. The second Altair turned his back, she glared at Desmond like an immature brat. He half-expected her to stick her tongue out at him.

* * *

_Well, at least she's not here anymore._ __  
  
“Hey, you know what's worse than packing? Un-packing. I hate it,” Desmond said, making Altair snort.  
  
“You hate everything besides nerdy stuff, Desmond. I won't be surprised if you end up the “target of the year”, you know,” he said while putting Desmond's clothes in the closet.  
  
“Oh, you're so funny. Well then, why don't you share your secrets with me, o great master of popularity?”  
  
The brunette laughed.  
  
“Look, Des, you're a nice kid and all that, but you're not going to make many friends on your first day. Even if people think you're okay, you're still going to be stuck with me and that dumbass, Ezio, for the first few weeks, if not months. There's only so much you can do to help yourself. You know, the usual. Don't pick a locker on the wrong side, don't try to impress the ladies, etc. You know the drill.”  
  
 _At least he's honest._ ****  
  
Altair opened a cardboard box and started taking out its contents. He looked lost in thought for a moment, before he started arranging Desmon'd books on the empy shelves.  
  
“Look, I don't think following us around like a lost sheep flock is a good idea. You should at least **try** to get to know **some** people. You know, find a project partner or something like that,” he added.  
“You want my advice? Don't go in the school's backyard. Avoid it like the plague, and you should be alright,” he said with a small sigh, his back turned to Desmond, who was looking out the window.  
  
They heard the front door open, and a loud voice called out to them.  
  
“Hey, Altair! You up there? Did Desmond get here yet?”  
  
Desmond turned to his cousin.  
  
“You go and tell Ezio the news, I'll finish unpacking. I'll be downstairs in time for lunch, I promise,” he said. 

* * *

Desmond walked into the kitchen, where Ezio was cooking spaghetti. The italian was turning the kitchen into a pretty big mess, which was probably why Altair preferred to do the cooking.  
  
 _If Altair sees this, he's gonna have an aneurism._ ****  
  
“Hey, Desmond! How was the road?”  
  
Desmond smiled and leaned against the counter.  
  
“Empty, for the most part. You're really lucky, you know, it's pretty quiet out here. The city was driving me mad,” he answered.  
  
Ezio laughed, stirring the sauce for the food.  
  
“I know, right? I like it, but you know Altair. He says this place is dead, that's why it's so quiet. I say, he always finds something to bitch about, but that's our cousin, right? So what do you think of your room, Des?” he asked while turning the fire down.  
  
Desmond chuckled. ****  
  
“Yeah, Altair's like that. The room's pretty cool, Ezio. Thanks for letting me stay here. I swear, if I had to be homeschooled for one more year, I'd go crazy,” he said.  
  
“Des, you want to be in our school. You're already crazy. Come on, help me make lunch, will you? Make a salad or something, don't just stand there,” answered the italian, punching Desmond in his right arm. Desmond laughed and opened the fridge. He took out two tomatoes and some lettuce leaves, and started washing them in the sink.  
  
“What, it's **that** bad? Come on, Ezio, you've gotta be shitting me,” he said, drying the tomatoes with a paper towel. He grabbed a bowl from the cupboard and started cutting the lettuce in small piecies, which he then dropped in the bowl.  
  
“Yeah, Des, it's **that** bad. Dio, you act like you've never heard Altair talk about it,” said Ezio, turning the furnace off.  
  
Desmond shrugged, and started cutting the tomatoes.  
  
“Dunno, I always figured Altair was being Altair. Why does he even hate de Sable? Isn't he, like, king of I-don't-give-a-fuck-ville?” he asked.  
  
He heard Ezio snort with laughter.  
  
“Yeah, de Sable's like that. Look, I don't get it either, but I think it has something to do with that bitch, Maria. I was hoping one of us could be spared her presence, but then you moved here, and, well... there goes my hope. Right in the trashcan,” said the italian.  
  
Desmond laughed and punched Ezio in his left arm.  
  
“Hey, is Federico still in the school?” he asked.  
  
Federico was Ezio's older twin. He lived in an apartment with some of his friends, and both he and Ezio believed it was a good thing, and that they needed time apart from each other. It certainly looked like it was doing Ezio good, since he was kind of dependant on his older twin before they started living apart.  
  
“Yeah, and he keeps saying he's going to kill Connor if he keeps not calling us. I say, I'd like to see that fight,” answered Ezio. “I still don't get it, I mean, it's not like we're going to eat him if he calls once a month or something. We're cousins. We're supposed to be there for each other, but Connor's just... I dunno, he kind of disappeared after a while,” he added after some thought, crossing his arms on his chest, watching the sauce boil.  
  
Desmond frowned, and placed the salad bowl on the dining table. Somehow, he wanted the day to be over quickly, to go to a real school for the first time. He wasn't really sure if he was scared or excited about it.

**Author's Note:**

> So there you have it. The Rewrite. This is kinda like a prologue, it's not a real chapter. More like, filler. Anyway, leave a review if you feel like it. You can flame if you want, I actually enjoy getting flamed because then, I have something to laugh about. Damn, I get mad at the wrong things.  
> Excuse the random titles that I'll sometimes use, it's just... gargh. Why are titles so hard?!  
> Also, can someone please help me rate this thing? I've yet to figure out the ratings.


End file.
